Gone
by Addicted2Emmett
Summary: Individual pains were too small to be noticed now. They all coalesced into a ripping, shredding mass that slashed away her very identity. Because she knew she wasn’t Leah anymore." Leah after Sam's imprint.
1. Gone

Author's Notes

I love Leah. I seriously do. So I was writing a chapter for TBM, and I got thinking about Leah. An idea took root in my brain, and now I'm being very, very, selfish and writing it even though I have three other stories I should be updating. Oh well, I couldn't resist!

Gone:

For the first few weeks, Leah felt nothing.

She sat in her room. Sometimes she would curl up in a ball, rocking back and forth. Sometimes she would lie on her bed and shake like she was possessed. Sometimes she would gaze out the window, perfectly still.

But Leah never cried.

Leah's grief was too great to be expressed through mere tears. Or shrieks, or words. So Leah didn't speak.

Her thoughts never varied. _Sam… my Sam… why? How could he? My Sam… gone, all gone…why._

_My Sam._

Sleep never came to Leah – her intolerable nights were just an extension of her unbearable days.

Leah didn't eat. She wasn't hungry. Hunger was a pain, and individual pains were too small to be noticed now. They all merged together into a ripping, shredding mass that slashed away her very identity.

Because she knew she wasn't Leah anymore.

Leah was the girl Sam had loved. She was the girl who had been promised forever by a man she knew would never hurt her. Leah was the lively, spunky, teenager who was too smart for her own good. Leah was that girl with a beautiful smile who was always laughing. The one who looked up at the stars and saw all the people that had died happy. The one who looked out at the ocean and saw love, sometimes rough, sometimes calm, but always beautiful. The one that saw compassion in a pine tree, and strength in a pebble. Leah was the girl who had _him. _Leah was the girl who had it all.

No. She wasn't Leah anymore.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

How ironic that it would be him who brought her back.

Leah was in one of her statue phases, just staring out the window. She was examining the cracks in the sidewalk that led up to the porch from her bedroom above it. Out of context, a bare foot appeared on the pavement. Leah was too wrapped up in the pain to register the surprise that should have come with the sight, but she realized that the shoe wasn't supposed to be there.

A bare, muscular, calve followed the foot, then thighs in cutoff sweats. Leah lost the interest she had never really had, and shambled lifelessly to her bed.

She was on her side, staring at the wall, when her mother walked in. "Leah." Said Sue Clearwater in a heart-broken, compassionate voice. "Someone is here to see you, Leah. Please try to keep an open mind."

Leah stood up, keeping her eyes on the over-long carpet. She pulled on the doorknob with just as much force as was necessary, staggered down the hallway, and tripped down the stairs.

When Leah reached the door and looked up for the first time, everything stopped.

Everything.

"Go. Away." She spat. "_Now._"

"Leah, I –"

"Sam. Go. Away."

It was Sam who stood in the doorway. Her Sam. He was wearing nothing but a pair of cutoff sweats.

"We need to talk, Leah. I can't begin to tell you –"

"I don't want to hear it!" she snapped, the first words she'd said with any animation for weeks. She lowered her voice. "You said it, Sam. You told me. I know."

"But Leah –"

"Sam. Please, don't do this again. Please." She closed her eyes, fighting to remain independent of the situation.

He stared at the floor. "It's so… complicated."

"Just say it." She shot the words at him like bullets. "I'm not good enough. I get it."

"Oh, no, Leah, no," he shook his head in despair. "Leah, it's not you. It's me… and her."

"Emily? You mean my cousin? My best friend?" Leah was starting to shriek. "I can't believe you would do that! Either of you!" she dropped back to a low voice. "I loved you, Sam. I still love you. And look what that love did to me."

He took it all in. Her body was thin and frail from malnutrition, and her eyes had bags under them from not sleeping. But it went deeper than that. There was a darkness in Leah now. A deadness. Where was the girl he had loved? When he stared into her eyes, all he could see was resentment, anger and pain. Her eyes had been like a window to Leah's soul, but when he looked into them now, all that was there was black.

"I love you too, Leah. I just…"

"Love her more." Leah finished bitterly.

Sam looked at the ground.

Leah stared at his bare chest. He was so beautiful. But she couldn't look at him. Because it just reinforced the pain. He wasn't hers.

He didn't love her.

"Go away, Sam!" She screamed. "I can't believe you would drag me through this again!"

Sam mumbled something, looking like he was intense pain.

Leah slammed the door in his face and bolted it. She dashed upstairs.

What Sam had said before the door crashed shut didn't matter. Because no matter what he said, all Leah could hear were the words he had said to her that day on the beach.

"_I just don't love you anymore."_

And for the first time, Leah cried.

Author's Notes:

I am trying to decide what to do with this. OneShot? Or should I turn it into a story?

Here's the deal. If I get over 20 reviews, I'll update. So if you liked it, please review!


	2. Broken

Author's Notes:

So far I've only gotten 5 reviews . Thanks to Lane Farrel, Melodic Confessions, and AnnaMollyPR! Anyway, I was planning on being selfish and not updating until I got at least 20 reviews, but my subconscious had other ideas. I had to write this – the idea wouldn't let me go!

Chapter Two: Broken

Leah cried.

She had run from _him, _collapsed on her bed, and bawled like she had nothing left. She didn't.

But as she sobbed, anger started to creep into her heartbreak. At first, she had been too bewildered and unbelievably _sad_ to be mad. Why? How could her Sam do this to her? How? Her mind couldn't get around the question. Leah felt that if she could only figure out his reasoning, then the problems would all be solved. It wasn't a rational belief, and she couldn't explain her reasoning, even to herself, but she _had _to find out why.

But today's conversation had changed her thinking.

She no longer wondered why. That day on the beach had seemed unreal, like a Technicolor nightmare. She couldn't make sense of his words. They were all jumbled up. He had _promised _her. There was no way he could just stop loving her like that.

But somehow, seeing him had made it all too real for Leah. She saw him, and all she could think of were those fatal words. _"I just don't love you anymore." _ And when she saw him… someway, somehow, she knew that it was true.

As she lay on her bed, it hit her with undeniable reality. He _didn't _love her anymore. It was over, passed.

He didn't love her anymore.

Leah wanted to scream. How could he be so cruel? He had _promised _her. They were going to be together forever, forever, and all the forevers after.

And then he had tossed her aside like the toy he got bored with. He didn't want her anymore. And everyone knew what carelessly throwing a toy would do to it.

She was broken now. Deeper than a toy truck missing a wheel, or a model boat with a hole in it. Leah's wound was deeper than that – a truck missing a wheel is still a truck, and a boat with a hole is still a boat. But she was no longer Leah.

She wasn't Leah, because there was nothing left. There was no such think as a state of being for _nothing, _and nothing was what she was. Sam had taken the Leah right out of her.

They had thought that they were making each other stronger. They had shared everything they had. People say relationships are give and take. It wasn't like that for them. They gave everything they could, and even what they couldn't, without taking anything from each other. The more they gave, the more they had.

But now Leah realized that it had been a one-sided feeling. She gave all and took nothing. Sam had given to her, but he had been taking, too.

He had taken away her very self.

She was good enough for him to toy with until something he liked better came along, but in the end, she just wasn't. She just wasn't good enough.

And when she had finally dragged herself to a sitting position by temporarily battering back the crushing grief that bowed her figure, the immense mirror hanging on her wall was all she could see.

The mirror reflected the new Leah, not the real one.

The Leah who had lost too much weight to the grief that kept her from eating.

The Leah who had shadowy purple circles under her eyes from being too confused to sleep.

The Leah with the black, lifeless gaze.

The Leah who just wasn't good enough for him.

This was too much for Leah. She grabbed the ice-skates she kept in her closet for skating on the frozen pond a few miles into the forest and hurled them at the mirror with everything she had.

As the mirror exploded, broken glass rained down around her, giving her slashing cuts of all sizes.

It hurt a little… blood ran into her eyes… she heard a shrill, high, noise… it was irritating…

"Leah! Oh, Leah, baby… Harry!"

_My Sam… _No. She had to stop thinking that. He was no longer hers.

He didn't love her anymore.

Leah writhed in agony anew – it wasn't the physical pain; that was only a small part or her misery.

It was the emotional torture that dragged screams for her lips and tears from her eyes. She had heard them before, even believed them, but Sam's words had never hit her like this. It was pain like carving out a piece of her heart, because that's what had been done. She and Sam had too deep a bond to ever be separated. Leah had given him all her heart. When he had forced the separation on her, when he had left, he took her heart with him. Now the only fragment left was the bit that felt pain.

And that was all there was. Just Leah and the pain. That was all there would ever be. She convulsed again with this knowledge.

"Harry!" the person screamed again. "Harry, she's thrashing! Do something! Seth, call an ambulance!"

She wondered why they were there. Leah was apart from all this, a separate being in a separate state. They were too distanced to be considered even the same species. They had never hurt like this. They had never experienced this heartbreak. It set Leah apart from everyone she knew.

Things were starting to go a little fuzzy… she heard lots of voices shining around her… they were moving her, and it hurt…

_Gone. He's Gone._

Everything went black.

Author's Notes:

A little emo, but I think it will be important to this story.

Please, _please_, PLEASE review! There is absolutely no reason not to! I will update faster if you do… okay, honestly, I am powerless to the notions in my head, so I will probably update anyway, but I really wish you would!


	3. Histories

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the wait – you have no idea how possessive music can be! Unless you're like me… then you probably do :)  
I don't have much to say here, so moving on!

Chapter Three: Histories

The nurse said her job was to heal Leah.  
Leah had broken her wrist when she fell and landed on it, and the heavy skates had given her a pretty good concussion after she had hurled them at the mirror. She had sustained several gashes from the falling glass, but none too serious. The real damage the mirror had done was when a particularly angled shard had fallen near Leah's ankle and punctured an artery. Still, they assured her she would heal.

But heal was subjective term. The pamphlet on Leah's bedside table, the one made of cheap wood and covered in a generic pastel tablecloth, read "Ensuring that you complete the healing process is our highest priority here at Masen. The word 'heal' is defined as 'to make sound or whole in bodily condition, or to effect a cure.' Our biggest goal is to help you remain as healthy and happy as possible while you work towards that sound state."

It was a total load. Leah didn't care about her injuries; in fact, she hardly noticed them. So she didn't care if they healed her or not. Because that wasn't where she was truly broken. Leah's problems were so much deeper than fractured bones.

They could heal her, but they couldn't fix her.

Leah's days passed in a haze of red. The minor swelling of her cerebellum the concussion had given her hadn't reduced much, so she drifted in and out. She didn't sleep - sleep meant nightmares, so she just drifted in and out through the haze of medication. When she was alert enough to focus for any length of time, everything was sharp as the shards of ice embedded in her heart. Every pointed thought was stabbed into her charred, razed image of Sam. He had been beautiful, so beautiful. Until he did this to her. All his glory had been burned away, replaced with the awful truth.

_"I just don't love you anymore."_

So every coherent thought was Sam-central. Hating him, loving him, missing him, but never speaking. It terrified her parents, how she hadn't uttered a word since the accident, but the doctor assured them that Leah's brain waves were perfectly healthy, and her mind was probably just working past the trauma. Leah hadn't reacted when she heard this - because she knew the truth. She could never get past the trauma. It had scarred her, much deeper than the glass had. He had scarred her soul.  
When she_ wasn't_ totally there, it was almost worse. At least when Leah was awake, she had something to be angry at. Anger was easier than shouldering all the pain - the fury was a thin, weak, firewall against the assault of the agony, but at least it was a wall. When she was only half there, she had to feel.

_Sam... my Sam... gone. "I don't love you"... gone... His angel's face... the way the strands of his hair used to cling together in the rain... gone._

And feeling something was almost unbearable.

So she folded in on herself and hid inside her skull where she didn't have to face anyone but her memory. Sometimes that was worse than anything, but at least when the occasional memory of a day on Sam's sailboat hit, she didn't have to hide the pain. Inside her own mind, she could succumb to the torture that stripped away every other sensation.  
Leah's mind was her last sanctuary, the only place that Sam hadn't been. She hadn't been able to leave her room at first, because everything inevitably had Sam stamped on it.

The trampoline in her pocket-sized back yard... they had built forts underneath it when it stormed hard... and found ways to occupy themselves so thoroughly that they didn't even notice the water pounding through the black canvas.

The bonfire pit on the cliffs... where he chased away any bad mood she may have harbored with the old legends and ghost stories... they had skewered hot dogs on long sticks there for breakfast too many times.

And the beach... she could remember every sensation of that icy-clear day, branded forever in her memory - the sand between the toes of her bare feet... the incomparable pressure of his lips on hers... the unique, burning love in his eyes as he promised her forever and sealed it with a promise ring. He had outlined every future of their future together as she listened contentedly, leaning against his chest with his corded arms hugging her waist, and her hands over his.

So she didn't speak or sleep, and she barely listened to the nurse. She just sunk into herself until she wasn't sure if she even remembered _how _to eat or talk.

Of course, she emerged every once in a while. She didn't show any more reaction than she did when she was in her unresponsive state, but she registered things that she usually didn't.

About a week after she had been admitted to the tiny hospital of Forks, Leah lay in her bed as still as ever. As she stared at the wall, not really seeing the blank plaster anyway, her ears began picking up sounds she didn't want to hear. Her eyes flashed to the half open door without Leah consciously moving them.

"...Made a remarkable recovery." an RN was saying to Leah's mom and dad. "She doesn't seem to be showing much response, and after a major concussion like that, I'm sure you must be worried, but don't be - her brain waves are perfectly healthy. Healthier, in fact, than almost anyone's would be at this point in the recovery process. Her bones have healed quicker than we would have thought possible, and her veins seem to have incredibly strong outer walls - you don't need to worry about her losing any more blood." The nursed dropped her voice and leaned toward Leah's parents. "I don't know how she has done this. This rate of recovery is extremely unusual already, but for someone in Leah's regressed state... it's unheard of. It appears to me that Leah has always been very healthy, but she seems to have recently taken a dangerous turn for the worse, am I correct?"

"She's lost all appetite… she never sleeps… Dr. Duncan, she hasn't left her room in two weeks." Anguish was apparent in her mother's words, but Leah ignored it. She didn't have room to feel sympathy for other people's pain.

"Hmm. As I said, I don't know how Leah has made this recovery. It's rather remarkable. Her injuries were never life-threatening, but for her to have healed so quickly…I don't understand how she did it. You're very lucky."

Lucky. A foreign concept in a stranger's world. She had once thought of herself that way - one of the only rare girls fortunate enough to have a man who really, truly loved her. He had - despite her many flaws, Sam had stood by her in all his beauty, come what may. So many girls had vied for his attention, but he had turned them all away without a second thought for Leah.

Until he met her cousin.

Emily was Makah - Her mother and Leah's dad shared the same great-grandfather. He had been a Quileute chief, the generation before Ephraim Black. However, Emily's great-grandmother Sarah had married a man from the Makah reservation. She had fallen deeply in love with him, but he left her when he unraveled her lies about her lineage - she had lied to him about which tribe she was from. When he realized that she was not indeed Makah as she had claimed, but from the tribe up north, the ones with the strange magic that the Makahs were implored to stay away from, there wasn't much of a decision for him to make. He didn't want anything to do with someone rumored to control spirits, and he wasn't going to take any chances of his unborn child being involved in it, either. So he left Emily's great-grandmother, Sarah, and disowned the child. He wouldn't be a part of this.

The woman had been crushed - she had no one to turn to. Her family had all rejected her and her choice to marry outside the tribe. She couldn't tell them she was with child - she couldn't bear the possibility of them blaming her unborn baby for something that was never his fault. So she bought the cheapest, smallest house on the Makah land and holed herself up in there. She never went out, and no one came to see her. Until the day when Embry had come.

He found Sarah curled up on the bed, gaunt and emaciated. His medical training had kicked in automatically, and he rushed her back to town, feeding her and working feverishly to regulate her temperature. He worked mindlessly for several days to expel the illness from her body.

Her fever broke the fourth night after he had saved her. She thanked him profusely, but quietly, and with her head down. As she moved for the door, he caught her arm, and she looked up in surprise, showing her deep green eyes for the first time.

And it all was fast-forward from there.

They were married three months later, and she gave birth to her old husband's baby a few weeks later. Regardless of the scandalized looks the people of the reservation gave him, Embry raised the child as if he were his own. Life finally worked out the kinks for Sarah, and she was happier than she had ever been, with one exception - it killed her that their baby never met his grandparents.

Their family had lived on the Makah reservation for the duration of their lives, along with their son's family, and his children's families after that. Only when Emily and Leah were born was the gap between the two families bridged.

Leah's father had been having minor trouble with his heart – electrical misfires, the cardiologist had said. It wasn't serious, but he had to have treatment and surgery. Sue and Harry had to go to San Francisco; the closest hospital that had the equipment to perform Harry's needed procedures. At the time, Leah was five, and Seth was just six months. Neither he nor his wife had siblings to tend the children, but it was much too expensive and troublesome to take the kids with them. They searched all over the reservation to find someone to babysit their children, but no one wanted to tend a baby that young, and it was common knowledge that 'that Leah was a handful!'. In desperation, Sue called her cousin Eliza. They hadn't ever spoken, and both knew the story of their ancestors (although both views were very biased) so conversation was awkward and halted. But searching to perhaps make the first stitch in mending the rift that had occurred so many centuries ago, Eliza eventually agreed to take the children for the week-long excursion.

It must have been karma. At the end of the week, Harry and Sue returned to find an unbreakable bond between Emily and Leah. Although Emily was a year older than Leah, it was clear who was in charge. Yet still, Emily brought out Leah's docile and considerate side. Her independence and slight tendency to get bossy couldn't be tamed, but Emily helped her cousin balance them out. After that week, not a month went by when the two girls didn't at least spend a weekend together. Once the parents tried, they found that they all got along well, too, and of course everyone just _fawned _over dimpled little Seth.

Emily and Leah had forged a lasting relationship from nothing – they didn't have much in common. Leah was unique, bossy, independent, and very confident – no one pushed _her _around. Emily was meek and docile, always looking out for others before herself. Leah was very athletic and outgoing; she had a million friends. Emily was a bookworm, and very involved in music; she had a small group of close friends, and she stuck with them through anything. And they liked very different types of men… or so they thought.

Until he met her cousin. Her _cousin…_Her best friend. Her sister, really. They had always laughed about that, seeing as neither of the girls had biological sisters of their own. Leah still couldn't believe it…

Leah couldn't keep her brain from playing it back yet again, like a perverse recording session where the singer can try a million times before hitting the right notes. So they run her mistakes by the artist yet again…

_She had been spending all her time with Emily, and when she got the chance to see Sam, he was usually gone. She went to see him at night, usually while her cousin was in the shower, but he was never there. When he showed up the next morning, he was always looking dead on his feet and would never answer her demanding, desperate, questions._

_"Are you cheating on me?!" she had screamed after this had happened a third time._

_"No, Leah, I'm not. I swear, I would never do that. I love you, Lee-Lee."_

_And looking into his eyes, she couldn't help but believe that. _

_She was still furious, and ignored his half-hearted pleas that she didn't ask where he was. "I can't tell you. I can't tell you, Leah – it's need to know only."_

_"I do need to know, Sam! I need everything about you, including any secrets you're keeping from me!"_

_Their days had passed like this for over two weeks – Leah would confront him, Sam would dodge the question. Leah would beg for information, and then Sam would spout some crap about how 'it was better if Leah didn't know'. But their love couldn't be torn apart by a meddlesome secret. Leah didn't give up, but they were working it out. They needed each other._

Sam had never met Emily. Leah never thought anything was going on – it seemed perfectly natural to her that Emily needed time on the cliffs alone each day; she had always been the introspective type. So she continued to cling to her relationship with her best friend and strengthen her bond with her boyfriend.

_Emily had been at Leah's house for several days, come up for the first month of summer. She was asleep in Seth's bedroom, so Leah had skipped out to see Sam – she had danced in the falling rain and laughed until she was sure her sides would split. Out of character, Sam had just sat on his back porch and watched her instead of joining in. But that wouldn't stop Leah!_

_After she was out of breath and dizzy, she went to set next to him on the crumbling cement steps. She had leaned her head against his shoulder, but he pushed her away. It stung a little, but she brushed it off – it just meant he wanted to talk. She took his hand in her own and began tracing the crescents of his fingernails with the lightest of touches. "What is it, baby?"_

"_Leah… Lee-Lee, I don't know how to say this… I don't know what to tell you…"_

_"Tell me what, Sam?" She was still perky from the recent rainstorm – they always left her feeling invigorated._

_"Leah, I…"_

_She looked up into his eyes, and what she saw there made her gasp. Confusion, pain, love, anger…betrayal? Her stomach clenched into a knot and her breath came quicker and faster. She didn't know what was coming, but he had never looked at her like that before. This didn't bode well._

_"Sam?" her voice quavered, giving away her irrational worry._

_"Leah, I… Leah, I love your cousin. I love Emily."_

_Her senses cut off. She couldn't hear anything but a shrill ringing in her ears, and she was having trouble swallowing. _Not true, not true! _Her brain screamed, but it had no effect on her._

_"Sam. Sam, what are you saying? You love _me_! You love _me_, Sam! Don't you remember?!" hysteria was creeping into her voice. "Sam!"_

_He swallowed and closed his eyes. "I do, Leah. I love you so much. But Emily and I…we need each other. Living without her would be like cutting off my air supply – impossible."_

_"No, Sam! No! _I_ need you!" tears burst from her like a pipe breaking. "Sam, don't do this!" She shrieked. "Sam, I love you! Don't! Sam, _**please!"**

_"I'm so sorry, Leah. I'm so sorry." He reached for her hand, but she screamed hysterically and jerked away._

_"SAM! You can't leave me! You don't even know her!"_

_"I do, Leah. I know her better than I know myself. I'm so sorry." His voice was a monotone on the surface, but the underlying pain was badly concealed._

_"You've never met, Sam! That's crap!"_

_Confusion crossed his perfect features. "Didn't she tell you?" comprehension washed over his face. "She didn't tell you. I'm sorry."_

_"Tell me _what?! _You're just giving me riddles! This doesn't make sense!"_

_"Leah… I've been meeting Emily every day, trying to work this out. On the cliffs…?" he prompted._

_"Oh no. No. No, no, no! She said she was there alone! What have you been doing?"_

_"Talking, Leah, that's all, I swear! I would never hurt you like that!"_

_And suddenly the fight was all gone out of her. That blatant lie was what finally made her see that he was telling the truth. Her voice went blank and dead. "You already have, Sam. You already have."_

_Suddenly, the sight of him was more than she could bear. With a sob she hadn't wanted him to hear, Leah turned and fled. She had to get out of there – she ran faster than a frightened little girl running from a wild wolf._

And although she didn't know it, that was exactly what she was.

Author's Notes:

Sorry this chapter was like a rerun of "Island of the Flashbacks" – that's why it was called "histories". Some of the stuff/stories in there may seem pointless, but this chapter is LOADED with foreshadowing!

[obnoxious announcer voice] "I hope you'll all stay tuned for our next chapter, The Confrontation!" (quick and low) "names subject to change" (returning to obnoxious announcer voice) "In our next chapter, Sam and Emily come to visit Leah in the hospital [gasp] what will happen next? Stay tuned to find out!

Sorry if everything medical-related is complete BS – the doctors' office/ insta-care/ ER are the scariest places on earth; like I'm paying attention while I'm there!

So far I have 16 reviews – you guys rock! Big "thank you"s to Lane Farrell and persephonesfolly! Also thanks to Paramore, Linkin Park, and Jack's Mannequin – JM is my all-time favorite band!

So yeah… a review would be great… [Winkwink, nudgenudge]


	4. The Confrontation

Author's Notes:

Wanted to write. Actually had time (sorta. More like I made time.). Only had nine votes, so I went with the one that had five… GONE! Hooray! That's the one I voted for because now my head's screwed on straight and I can write Leah's depression objectively. ANYWAY, this will be getting semi-regular updates from now until the end! Hooray!

Anywho, if you guys can dig the memories of a few months ago out of the recycling bin (we don't use the word trash around here, we're going green! And not just because it's considered "cool" to wear recycle socks!), I promised that we would have a chapter where Sam and Emily come visit Leah in the hospital. I'd be happier to keep writing author's notes and getting off on wonderfully happy tangents, but let's plunge into my Magnum Opus of angst and all get depressed together! If I even manage to write this chapter… Nevermind, ignore me. But take a virtual cookie if you read all that!

Chapter 4: The Confrontation (I got it right all the way down to the title! So far…)

As usual, she tuned them out.

Sue cried and begged for Leah to at least meet her eye, Harry guilt-tripped her and even tried getting angry, yelling at her that she was being selfish.

It all meant nothing to her. The words carried no weight or meaning, and just became sounds and pitches that served as a fittingly non-melodic background for her dark and guarded half-thoughts.

But one morning Leah forgot to close her eyes the minute she woke; the haze of a new painkiller had confused her and almost caused her to forget her strategy.

Almost.

Her parents saw their small mouse hole of opportunity – not a window, not by a long shot, but still an opening. They begged Leah to listen as they brought in a visitor, which just reminded her to zone out.

She heard a bit before she could shut her mind off completely, though. His name was Lawrence Webber. Dr. Lawrence Weber, Md. He was a mental therapist.

That was about when she was able to close the door completely to the mind that hadn't been open for some time.

So her parents wanted her to see a shrink? She knew it wouldn't help. She was sure they did too, but they had grown increasingly desperate in the last few days.

Leah couldn't think about things like that for too long, it made her feel guilty; made her doubt her lifeline strategy. She knew that if she let herself awaken to the real world, she'd become crazy, or even suicidal.

People already assumed Leah was. Why else the depression therapist? Why did they talk to her as if she was a rabid animal? If they didn't think she was crazy, they wouldn't act like loud noises or sudden movements could bring a quick end for them. If they didn't see her as suicidal, the nurse wouldn't worry so much a bout leaving her unattended in a room with chemicals and needles.

She shook her head imperceptibly. It didn't matter what they thought; she didn't car.

She reached for the iPod Seth had left her, jammed the noise-cancellers over her ears, and forced herself to listen to classical piano. It was the only type she hadn't experienced with Sam. The only safe music left to her was the kind she couldn't stand.

Was there anything about her life that didn't completely suck?

Normal teenage thoughts like that gave her perspective. In theory, anyway. It was hard to see anything but the long black tunnel stretching in front of her. So far, she could see no light.

Like most things, thinking about this too long just dragged her further down. Part of her survival strategy was to not dwell on any one thing for more than a few moments. Nothing was safe to think about for long. She tended to overanalyze it, and find non-existent meanings and unrelated memories of _him _in everything. So she worked hard on keeping herself from forming complete thoughts.

They got shorter and shorter as she dropped off into a violent trance that was almost comparable to sleep.

*(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)*

"Leah. Leah, sweetheart. Wake up."

Someone was shaking her awake. This struck Leah as odd – everyone liked her better when she was asleep. When she was asleep, it made _sense _for her to be unresponsive. It was _normal_ for her eyes to be closed and unaware when you talked to her.

She decided to wake up anyway. Real life couldn't be worse than the dream she had just experienced.

_Sam and Emily sat on the beach with a picnic blanket and a wicker basket, perfectly picturesque. Leah watched the scene from above, not there at all, but still seeing everything she didn't want to. She saw him reach for her hand even when it was covered in juice from an overripe peach. She kissed him even when his mouth was full of a peanut butter sandwich. _

_When they had finished eating (among other things, things that broke Leah's heart all over again), Sam ran to play in the waves, laughing beautifully; heartbreakingly. Leah expected Emily to run and play with him, to hold his hand as they walked through tidal pools and to kiss him hard as the waves broke around their unaware figures. But she didn't – Emily just sat on the blanket and watched, with a mature little smile on her face. _

_Leah hated her for it. Emily was too aloof and distant to deserve someone like Sam. Why did she make him so happy; why did he "need her" so much? She hated him too._

_After a moment, Sam returned from the water, shaking out his hair like a dog. He flopped down on the blanket next to Emily, who's slightly superior look disappeared into one of awe and adoration. It made Leah sick. Even _Emily _knew she wasn't worthy of Sam._

_And then he made the fatal move. The one that would be imprinted on Leah's mind forever._

_He put his hand on her stomach and kissed her on the cheek._

_And Leah knew without a doubt that Emily was pregnant._

Leah clenched her teeth and winced as she tried to forget the dream, preparing to open her eyes.

"Leah, sweetie, I know you're awake. Open your eyes." Sue seemed to be trying to hide her desperation. That meant someone was here. She considered refusing to comply, but realized it wasn't worth it. She sighed and opened her eyes.

And almost passed out.

The only thing stronger than the Déjà vu was the overwhelming _anger. _She didn't even have room to feel sad or confused.

Because it was Sam standing before her.

"Leah, I know you're angry, but before you kick me ou-" Sam was tripping over himself in his rush to get the words out.

"Sam. Uley. Get the _hell _out."

"Lee-Lee, I just want to explai-"

"_Don't call me that!_" Leah shrieked. "Not now, Sam! I'm not her anymore! I'm not her!"

He looked so upset. It made her incredibly angry.

"Don't look at me like that, Sam! Don't expect me to feel sorry for you! I hate you now! I _hate you!"_ She glared at him from her hospital bed, breathing heavily.

He down at his bare feet. "I know you do. I hate myself. I can't believe I _did _this to you…" His face twisted in anguish. "Tell me I didn't, Leah. Tell me it's not my fault."

"But it _is!"_ she screamed hysterically. "It's all your fault. I hate you, Sam! I hate you…" she dissolved into sobs that shook her shoulders and distorted her breathing.

"I'm so sorry, Leah. I'm so sorry."

"Just go… Just leave," she pleaded, covering her face with her hands.

His voice stiffened. "No, Leah. Not yet. I _have_ to make you understand. I have to."

"What?" she was screeching again, all her sadness gone just like that. "You think you have the right to sit here and make me listen to you, after what you did to me? After what you did with _her_? Get out!"

"You're right, Leah. I'm so sorry. I love you… I do."

And like a pendulum, swinging back and forth, Leah started to sob, feeling too tired and hopeless to ever feel angry again.

Emily Young sat in the waiting room of the tiny Forks Hospital, waiting for her prince to return from trying to pacify the dragon. Granted, the dragon had a reason these days for trying to bite people's heads off.

She didn't even notice that Sam was back until she felt his warm, strong hand rest on her leg

"How is she?" she asked, clenching her eyes shut, hardly wanting an answer.

He drew in a shaky breath. "What do you expect, Em? After the way we hurt her?"

Emily rubbed her temples as if she had a massive headache. "It's my fault, Sam. I should have told her sooner… I should have at least prepared her… I'm so sorry."

He couldn't bear to see her blame herself. Especially when she did share some of the blame. When they both knew she was guilty, it was even harder to talk her out of feeling that way. He'd lie to her all night if he thought it would help, but they both knew the truth. Lying wouldn't help.

He tried anyway. "Em, don't blame yourself. It's not you. You would never do that to her on purpose. _I _would never do that on purpose. It's not natural…" He slammed the wooden table suddenly with his fist. A crack appeared in one of the legs even as he held back as much of his strength as he could. "None of this would have ever happened without the imprint! What's the point? Why can't we choose our own destinies, and fall in love like normal people? At the very least, why can't I accept it and move on? I love you, Em… but I love her first. And it's not right to leave things like this. But I can't fix it."

He sounded so defeated. It broke Emily's heart. "Let me talk to her. I'm sure she doesn't blame you… she blames me."

He looked at her with haunted eyes. "No, Emily. She hates me. She hates me now."

"Let me talk to her, Sam. She's like my sister – we'll work past it. We'll be okay."

She stood, and he rose as well. Emily pushed him back into his seat gently. "Sam, I'm going alone."

*(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)*

The Rachmaninoff Concerto (blech.) covered the sound of the un-oiled hospital door squelching open. Emily stood in the doorway for almost five minutes before Leah opened her eyes, saw her cousin, and shut them again.

"Leah, please don't play these games with me," Emily was already begging.

This was nothing new. Emily had always been the sniveling type, groveling at people's feet. And Leah had always hated that.

She fought to keep her cool. Emily was _not _going to see how much she was hurting. Fortunately, she had gotten quite good at painting her face into a mask lately. "Go away, Emily. Just leave." She intoned in a monotone voice. "We have nothing to say to each other."

"Then listen!" Emily begged. "I have to tell you how sorry I am –"

Leah laughed harshly, humorlessly. "Oh, you're sorry? Sorry you lied to me for weeks? Sorry you stole my future fiancé? Sorry you stole my entire identity with a few simple actions? Good to know, Emily. I'm sure that will make it all better."

She rolled onto her side, seething.

Emily was crying softly. "But I am, Leah! I never meant to hurt you – please forgive me!"

"I'd like to, Em. I can't. Get out."

"Leah, I don't want to ruin our relationship! Leah, please!"

She was getting desperate and panicky. Leah could tell Emily's disorder was about to kick in.

"Listen, Leah! You can have Sam! You can have him! Just forgive me!" She was sobbing now.

This was what pulled Leah's mask off. "You think I _want _him now? After his lies? And the cheating? The secrets you two kept? Do you really think I want him back when you're _pregnant_ with _his kid_?!" She was shouting. The nurse was waddling down the hall.

"What? Leah, no! It's not like that? Never!"

"Don't! Don't lie to me! I hate you both! I'll never forgive you Emily, never!"

"But I'm not, Leah! I swear I'm not. I love you more than that!"

The nurse broke in nervously. "Miss, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave…"

"No, please!" begged Emily. "She doesn't understand!"

"I'm sorry, Miss, but you're upsetting the patient." The squat nurse gripped Emily's wrists despite her constant pleas and escorted her from the room. The last things Leah saw were Emily's wide, desperate eyes, pleading with her to understand what she could never say.

Leah closed her eyes again and commanded herself to sleep. She couldn't face the truth. The worst thing.

Because the worst thing was the lie. She still wanted him. She always would, no matter what.

And thinking about that was unbearable.

Author's Notes:

Ridiculously depressing. Please ask your parents to hide all household switchblades.

Hope you liked it! More coming your way soon! And REVIEW!!!

-Alli


	5. Shrinking

Author's Notes:

*raises self out of grave*. *looks around*. You guys are still _here? _Congrats, devoted reader!

Let's chat. It's been over a year. In that time I've grown up a lot, and grown out of a lot. And I've definitely grown out of Twilight.

There are a lot of things going on in my life, and I don't have time for obsessions like this! And I've moved on to much, much better books. But on some random whim today, I went and read through all my old stories… you guys, I was really proud of them! And I had this bizarre urge to pick it up again… really! I mean, I don't even like Twilight! But I like where some of my stories are going, and I don't wanna leave them unfinished. Thanks for your devotion… I'm back!

Also, from the last chapter, it is important that you all understand that Emily is not actually pregnant. But in Leah's mind this is pretty much worst case scenario, and would prove to everyone what monsters Sam and Emily are. So her brain fleshed it out in a dream. As Leah's mental condition rapidly deteriorates and she becomes crazy and obsessive in the hospital, it is easy for her to believe this is true.

Chapter 5: Shrink(ing)

The Weber doctor was back.

The nurses said it was part of the hospital's policy in relation to "healing". BS. They said Leah was subconsciously looking for help through her behavior, and as they were in a position to help, they were obliged to.

Screw them.

The doctor sat in the cheap plastic chair next to her bed. Leah, who had refused to get out of bed for him, lay on her side and stared at the opposite wall.

"And what exactly happened with Sam?"

"He cheated on me with my sister. And if you ask me how I feel about that, I'll deck you."

She could almost hear his eyebrows furrowing in mock concern. "Leah, sweetheart, I need your openness to begin the healing process."

_Sweetheart? _… Yep, he was phony through and through. She quit responding and just tried to sleep.

O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O(o)O

It was during another intravenous feeding that it changed.

It was like the fluids being pumped into her unwilling veins contained the ounce of defiance she needed. Maybe a little bottled anger. They gave her resistance.

_To hell with this._

Leah was angry. Angry and done. She ripped the needles out of her arms; she wasn't surprised when it didn't hurt.

Annoyed with the flimsy paper-fabric hybrid, she tore off her hospital gown, leaving her in a tanktop and boxers. Ignoring the revolting carpet slippers next to her bed, she stomped barefoot to the window and jammed upwards, not caring if they saw or heard. Finally, the big tree outside her window could do some good – Lord knows she hadn't used it for viewing purposes.

With strength that was really incredible, seeing how long she'd been lying in bed, Leah launched herself off the sill recklessly and began slinging herself down through the sappy pine branches.

She hit the ground running.

The rez wasn't far – maybe a 10K to the west? Leah relished the chance to run.

_Pound. Pound. Anger anger pound pound slap bare anger run pound. _She screamed from the rawness of it all. Just her and the poundingslappingrunning. It felt... good.

Little houses started popping up. She tore past the lilac-painted one that was hers. She kept running.

Leah didn't stop til she hit the beach. She sprawled on the sand and laughed and laughed.

It wasn't a happy laugh – no, only the real Leah knew what that felt like – it was bitter and jaded and cold, but still, it was emotion, a physical outpouring of it. It was something besides confusion and sadness and the fake outbursts used to mask it.

This was anger. A genuine feeling.

And it felt good.

Leah relished in the humanness of the moment. She sat on the beach, even when it got dark dark dark, never getting cold. No, she was not healed, and she was not happy, but she was alive.

Leah would never again be a _person _– that implied a certain wholeness, a rightness – but she was definitely human. A human with faults and pain and unrequited love and bitterness and anger. And she intended to embrace that.

Because she was human and alive and fighting.

_To hell with this._

Author's End Notes:

Hooray! No more broken Leah! … well, at least she's not _focused _on that right now. It feels good to have a character back on her feet and fighting, no? I, for one, am relieved.

Thank you again for still reading! You guys are incredible :) and I'm pro-review! (… in case you forgot or something…)


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